


hammerlocke hills at night

by orphan_account



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Potentially OOC, and just after he got disqualified, set before bede got taken in by opal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-22 14:16:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22564714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "Why do you care?" Bede suddenly murmurs; it's barely audible."Huh?""Why do you care about what happens to me?"
Relationships: Beet | Bede/Masaru | Victor
Comments: 2
Kudos: 111





	hammerlocke hills at night

**Author's Note:**

> i finished writing this rly late, sorry if it seems a bit rushed or bad aha
> 
> i might do a few tweaks to it later on, usually nothing i make at night is good

Thunder and rain roar down on the fields of Hammerlocke Hills, and Pokemon run rampant. 

Victor fights with the pedals of his bike to make his way through the dark, damp grass. He really wasn't expecting this sort of weather; the warmest thing he's dressed in is his usual biking attire, and that's not saying much, seeing as how it’s only a light t-shirt and thin pants. The freezing cold rain continues to effortlessly drip its way through the cloth, to his skin. Rotomphones hate water, so it's not like he could just call a taxi to bring him back to the warmth of the desert-esc town, Stow-on-Side.

...Ah. Stow-on-Side.

He's just now reminded himself of the events that unfolded, not too long ago, right in front of him at that place, of Bede destroying the mural and then getting humiliated, disqualified, by Rose himself. He remembers feeling awful after seeing Bede getting dragged away, even if he did deserve it. Knowing he used to be an orphan until he was taken in by the very man who disqualified him didn’t make that feeling all that much better.

Bede was certainly a bitter one, yes, but Victor still cared for him. He just wonders how he’s doing right now.

Victor doesn’t register how cold and damp he feels until he brings his focus back to the present. The weather doesn’t seem to have cleared up one bit; if anything, it’s getting worse, with the thunder roaring louder than ever.

He makes a quick second thought. He came out here originally to pick some berries, maybe train some of his Pokemon, and the weather had a nice breeze to it when he first came out here. He decided to stray out a bit further from the entrance to Hammerlocke, and now look where he’s ended up ‘cause he was so quick to judge. But, maybe, he could quickly pedal back to the entrance- 

“Oh, who am I kidding?” He interrupts his own thought process, “I’m gonna end up getting pneumonia out ‘ere before I could turn back...”

He gets off the bike, kicks the stopper out so it stays standing in place as he turns away to slide the huge baggage containing all of his camping supplies off his back and look down at it. “Guess ‘m staying overnight out here,” he sighs.

He zips open the baggage, takes out his camping supplies, begins to set up the curry pot, the tent. Then, just as he reaches for the sticks and stones to set up the campfire, he spots another figure just in his vicinity walking past, sporting merely an oversized coat to keep out the cold. Could that be...?

Victor stands up, squints his eyes to try and make out just who it is walking by, and he makes it out that it’s Bede who’s burying his face in his coat, strutting by with a grace that contrasts his usual confident posture. Even if it might be a bit freezing out, that’s unusual, coming from Bede.

Victor pauses before deciding to walk up to the boy. Bede sees him approaching from the corner of his eye, turns to him sluggishly. 

“What do _you_ want?” Bede asks him, voice shaky and worn out, “you waltzed up to me just so you could rub it in my face that I was disqualified from the gym challenge, didn’t you? Well, I hope you’re happy now-”

“I would never! I-I was just... Concerned, about you, mate, seeing you out and about in this sort of weather.” 

Bede doesn’t reply; he continues to glare at him in disgust. 

A moderate silence ensues between the two, the sounds of the harsh rain beating against Bede’s coat and the distant roars of the Tyranitar intercepting it mildly.

“...You know, I was just... setting up camp out here before I saw you, so, if you really want to, you could stay with me for the night.” Victor generously offers to the soaked boy, who only gives a slight change in expression, a quiet ‘tch.’ in response. He couldn’t tell if that was a yes or a no, but actions speak louder than words.

. 

. 

. 

Victor, sincerely, wasn't expecting him to take him up on his offer.

Here they both are, sitting in the shelter of a small tent, the warmth of the campfire radiating towards them that, too, had shelter from the rain; just under a mildly dripping tree. The warmth was a stark difference to the flood that continues to pour down with no end in sight. This is the closest he's ever been to Bede, and probably the closest he'll ever be after tonight.

Bede's not said a word, the whole time he's sat with his knees up to his face with a look Victor couldn't really read. He wished he could understand why Bede had to act so defensive and rude all the time -- of course, he understands that he's upset because of what happened, but he acts like that even when he's not. 

He's just about to turn away, stare back at the campfire before he notices things about Bede he's never quite noticed before until now -- Bruises. Bruises around his neck, specifically, he faintly sees them through the split of his collar-

"Why do you care?" Bede suddenly murmurs; it's barely audible.

"Huh?"

"Why do you care about what happens to me?"

"I-I mean--" The brunette doesn't know how to respond without sounding awkward or weird, "Why wouldn't I?" 

"You know I'm not the nicest person in the world," Bede's expression softens, "I know you saw how I berated Hop, how I berated you, how I just got disqualified from the Gym Challenge. I'd've expected you to have hated me by now."

"I care about what happens to you because I know you're a good person underneath that snobbish facade -- you're proving that to me right now."

Bede turns his head the other way, rests it on his arms that lie on his knees. The night falls silent yet again -- it's only the sounds of the rain, and the quiet hisses of the campfire when a drop from the tree falls down into the flames occasionally.

Victor turns his head the other way, debates with himself in his head whether he should bring up what he just saw or not. On one hand, it'd make him seem nosy, make Bede angry at him. But, on the other, he's just so concerned about him -- is he being abused? Is Rose putting his hands on him? Those thoughts are going to haunt him, drive him insane the whole night if he doesn't bring it up right now.

"Hey, Bede?"

Bede turns his head to face him, still resting it on his arms. "What."

"What-- What is that on your neck?"

He sees a flash of panic appear on Bede's face. "...It's nothing."

"No, no, it's not 'nothing', mate, I know that much."

The white-haired boy moves to button up the collar of his jacket, and as he moves his hands up, his sleeves move down, revealing pressure marks that dig deep into his wrists. "It _is_ nothing; it's just a little discipline that I deserved for trying to destroy that historical monument whatever. Quit making such a big deal out of it." He rests his arms back on his knees, goes silent once more, and looks away from him, an annoyed and mildly angry look plastered on his face.

"Bede, having hands put on your neck _is not_ discipline. It's abuse, you can't let him do that-"

Bede's fist balls up, then releases pitifully. "It's not like it matters anymore, anyways. He's left me."

Victor's anger at Bede rapidly fades to sorrow as he hears those words. He feels awful now -- he knows he shouldn't've mentioned all of that. 

"I'm... sorry, I didn't know that."

"Don't pity me. I can make it just fine without that old man."

The brunette decides to leave it for now. He doesn't want to make the air around them any more tense than it already is.

Another word isn't so much as whispered throughout the rest of the night; the hisses of the campfire and the sounds of pour are able to rule over the silence, finally.


End file.
